SickDay
by Mae3
Summary: Sarah is ill and in need of someone to take care of her.


Sick Day  
  
Author: Mae  
  
To Liz, for your never fading ability not to become mad at my  
lasting senseless babbling and for listening to every idea for a new  
piece of writing I ever had however crazy they were.  
To Claudi, for assisting my crazy imagination to go out of hand and  
without you I wouldn't have even started to write.  
Thank you, I wouldn't write anymore without you two. This is  
dedicated to you.  
  
Rating R: G  
  
Summary: Sara's ill and in need of someone to take care of her  
  
Disclaimer: The Wichblade are not mine and no profit is made by  
my use of them.  
  
Warnings: I wrote this when I was feeling exactly as Sara is  
feeling in the first part of this fic, so it contains a tiny bit  
of self-pity.  
English is not my first language so don't  
sue me because of grammatical or orthographical faults.  
This is slightly AU. Danny and Irons are  
both alive.  
  
This was nothing else but a slow never ending nightmare. It was horrible. Just horrible. She was feeling like nothing on earth. For about seven hours she was puking her guts out. She was sitting like a despicable picture of misery in her small bathroom between the toilette and radiator beneath the thing that held her loo paper, but even if her life depended on it she couldn't remember what it is called exactly, leaning weakly against the wall.  
  
Her head was heavy and was lolling from side to side till it finally ended up leaning against the radiator. Her eyes were hurting and tearing because she was so tired but when she closed them the world around her started spinning that's why she fought keeping them open. It seemed as if her head was stuffed with cotton balls and everything was going in slow-motion. It wasn't the way it used to be with the witchblade no, it was totally different. It was the way it can only be when you were puking your guts out for a whole night.  
  
On one hand Sara was happy that she was alone cause she knew that she looked like death warmed over. Under her eyes she had dark shadows that were so intense that they looked like they were painted on her face, her cheeks were sunken, her lips were dry and the skin on them broken in some places and the colour of her skin was as pale as if she had never seen the sun in her life. Oh and don't forget about the greenish touch around her nose. She looked right out frightening.  
  
The only chance for contact she had to the world outside her bathroom was her loyal phone. It helped her to let out the frustrations and anger about her ordinary physical weakness she felt during the first three hours of this ordeal on somebody else. And who else could this somebody be but Irons's bad but loyal lap dog Ian Nottingham. Twice she ripped him out of deep sleep just to yell at him for ages because of some trifles and to hang up on him again only to repeat it again. For a very short time she felt better afterwards. But not two minutes later her head was in the toilette again and she felt worse than before.  
  
By god her back was hurting like hell. It felt as if somebody had rammed a knife in it and was constantly twisting it. She started to feel worse again. Her sight was slightly double her knees felt as if they were made of jelly her stomach did flip-flops without her and she was feeling cold and started shaking. And what made all a lot more difficult was that she started to feel lonely. She wanted to be held by someone she wanted to be taken care of. She couldn't pry Danny away from his family on his first day off after working three month straight. Joe was out of question, too. And Jake well Jake was Jake. He probably couldn't be careful if his life depended on it. Not for the first time in the last four hours she asked herself if she hadn't frightened away the only person to spell able to help her in that matter.  
  
Starring straight ahead into nothingness her mind started wandering and she thought about all the mistakes she did especially those concerning Ian. And realisation hit her like a sledge hammer. In this certain case she made too many. Way too many. Could he ever forgive her all those cruelties? Could he .. .. She couldn't even finish her own thought before a new wave of dizziness and nauseates over came her and for the hundreds time she flung herself over the toilette. Her hair started falling in her face but before she could puke all over them they were carefully drawn back. She was vomiting until there was nothing left in her stomach and her insides were just contracted by dry heaves. Totally exhausted and without thinking she let herself fall backwards into the unknown presence behind her. Suddenly there was something wet in her face and tenderly her mouth was wiped. As fast as it was came it was gone again.  
  
At the moment she couldn't care less about anything. She didn't gave a damn about anything that went on around her as long as that person behind her wouldn't go away. She also didn't care a fig who that person was cause at the moment she was feeling to .. .. good and she snuggled deeper into that unknown presence. Though that wasn't quite right. By far it wasn't right that she didn't care a fig who that person was but she knew too that the one she wanted the most to be that someone wouldn't be that someone. So she simply enjoyed what she had and imagined it was Ian who held her right now instead of whoever it was in reality. In her present condition it wasn't that hard mostly because apart from those thoughts that were centred purely on self-pity there wasn't much that penetrated her confused mind.  
  
Suddenly her arm was flung around something and something was shoved behind her back and underneath her knees and in no time she was lifted carefully upwards. Immediately her head rolled on a wonderful soft shoulder. Deeply she breathed in Ian's smell. But .. NO .. No that wasn't Ian under no circumstances could that person be Ian. Nobody would do something like that to anyone who treated that someone like she had treated Ian and from one second to the next tears stared to drop down her cheeks. She held the soft article of clothing that man wore in a death like grip. She knew it was a man cause a part from her still working mind told her that a woman could never carry her that easily. She still held onto that shirt as she was carefully sat onto her bed and consequently forced her helper to sit down next to her. She knew once she felt better she had a whole lot of apologizing to do to that man.  
  
A little part of her logical conscience that wasn't totally fried tonight screamed at her that that person probably was Gabriel. But at that moment she didn't gave a damn about the consequences this'll gonna have. Everything she wanted at that moment was to let out her deeply buried feelings. And exactly that she did. Everything that was on her mind she let out and cried as if there'd be no tomorrow. After that everything went dark around her.  
  
*****  
  
The next thing that penetrated one of her senses was the loud bark of a dog that came from somewhere on the street below her partly open window. Absolutely confused Sara slowly sat up in her bed. Her head was still acing and her insides reminded her on the overstressing they had had to endure last night. But except from that Sara felt fine and well rested. She felt safe and unwatched and concluded that Gabe must have left.  
  
Carefully she put her legs on the ground and tried standing. Her knees still felt a little wobbly but it was manageable. Unhurriedly she staggered into her kitchen because she was thirsty. The first thing she found was her beloved coffee. Well why not?  
  
"I assume you are feeling better today, Lady Sara?" The voice startled her and she nearly dropped her coffeepot. Shocked she turned around. And there he stood with his head lowered and like that dark looming presence he always was. Radiating absolute power that if unlashed would be totally destructible.  
  
Sara didn't know what she should be feeling. Could it have been him tonight? The most different emotions running through her at that thought. But what surprised herself was that the one feeling, annoyance, she normally had when he came by unannounced (when did he not came by unannounced?) wasn't included. She actually was glad that it was him. Of course she was. But at the same time she felt gravely embarrassed. Cause if it had been him tonight, and it became more probably with every second, then it was his shoulder she had hang onto and his shirt she had misused as some kind of tissue and it was his ears that heard everything she had had to say. Everybody else she could tell that whatever she had said was just some kind of fever influenced nonsense but Ian contrary to anybody else knew that that wasn't the case.  
  
What should she tell him? Should she apologize and say that he should forget about what she had told him concerning him? The next question that her mind formed was: did she actually want to tell that Ian? Or did she actually wanted him to hear those things? Cause the point is everything she had said was the truth and she actually should have said those things to him along time ago. After that thought had settled she made a decision: "Do you wanna stay and have a cup of coffee with me? Maybe we could talk a bit about what I said tonight?!" By the startled look she received she knew that was the last thing he expected to hear from her. "Make yourself at home. I'm coming with the coffee in a minute." She told him in a friendly tone and turned around to make said coffee. After a second she looked over her shoulder and saw him making his way over to the couch. A smile started to form on her lips. This was a beginning. She didn't know to what it'll be a beginning. Maybe to a future that involved him more than just being the man lurking on her fire escape. It was all uncertain especially with Irons around but Sara intended to find out. It was her future and maybe Ian's, too.  
  
Ë¿ The End Ë¿  
  
© Mia Stiefelmayer, February the 13th 2004 


End file.
